Thanks for Making Me…
by Tokio Rose
Summary: Cole Turner... once a demon extradordinare and now guardian of the Charmed ones. They thought they had gotten rid of him, how wrong they were. But with his heart lost in some magical void there really isn't much Cole can do, right? Slightly AU, PhoebeCole
1. Prelude to the Crescendo Prologue

**Thanks for Making Me…**

_by Grace_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own charmed, and you know that, so no suing. Oh and I don't own the part of the lyrics I used to come up with for this story title.

**Summary: **You know, I'm all for cannon pairings. They make the world go round after all, but I highly doubt I was the only one that really was a bit irked when Cole went crazy and disappeared into Limbo. Call me crazy, but I felt really, REALLY sorry for him and a bit upset at Phoebe. Well, again, nothing against Coop, but he just isn't Cole. Yeah, that is it, and I am a sucker for unrequited love.

A really, really BIG sucker.

Because I like to give happy endings. So PhoebeCole is a definite in this and maybe a bit of PhoebeCoop peppered around. -Hiss- Maybe… don't get your hopes up

This is my first fanfiction, so please be kind…

**_Prelude to the Crescendo (Prologue)_**

* * *

There were times that he absolutely hated his will to fight. 

It was a simple thing really, to die. Dying didn't even hurt after you did it what? Two times? It especially didn't hurt if you lost count of how many times it had happened to him, or maybe it was just the fact that he was in Limbo that he could no longer remember. Yeah, that had to be in. In Limbo nothing was the same, and time seemed to blur. Besides, dying didn't just involve your body; there were times when dying was much, much worse than that. So in terms of body AND soul, he had died more times than he could count.

And Cole Turner was sick and tired of it.

Call him stupid. Call him whatever you want; it wasn't fun to die physically, and it sure as hell wasn't fun to die spiritually. It HURT, damn it! Resigning to the fact that pain would always follow him like an annoying puppy might have done just a tiny bit of good to the shattered, empty feeling that also followed him, but it didn't resign him to the fact that he died a little bit more on the inside each time he would float into the Halliwell manor.

He had TOLD Piper to make sure Phoebe didn't give up on love. He had been the distorted "angel" that had helped Piper return to her Leo, and he had been the horribly wounded being that had crawled pitifully back and made sure that she had carried through with his message. That was what he was after all, stripped of his power, vulnerable and bleeding like and open, gaping sore that was too painful to even look at anymore.

At least he still had a purpose.

Piercing azure orbs flicked closed, large hands encompassing the small ivory soul that rolled happily in his capable hands, silvery tendrils trailing up to run across his face in memorizing swipes. This was perhaps the only time that the place where Cole supposed his heart used to be would stop aching and he could think properly. It was when he had a small, lost soul in his hands.

"Well where were you supposed to be?" There wasn't an expected answer, half the time the younger ones didn't even know how to talk. And from the curiosity this one was showing, it had to be very, very young. He saw a lot of those. Babies that were aborted before they got a chance to live, children that died in child birth, even the occasional SIDS victim would come toward him, and for just a single moment, he could feel like he was actually accomplishing something. That he had a chance to be good.

The soul in his hands fluctuated a bit, almost an iridescent answer to his question, and a barely there smile quirked the corner of his lips, pained, but a smile none the less. It was lost, confused, and HURT. It wanted to know why it was here, and not in some happy place, which Cole could painfully relate to.

"I don't know why you are here," normally innocents didn't spend that much time in Limbo. Occasionally, they would appear to him, always questioning. There were always questions that came with his job, and tentatively he would explain with a gentle strength that was oh so very different from the blazing inferno of power he had always displayed before. "But I can help you move on."

"People don't always want to move on. They like having choices you know," Voices, he was hearing voices again inside of limbo instead of the endless silence. In hindsight it was only to be expected when the majority of Cole's time was spent talking to himself. Voices were bound to happen, as were other things that came with insanity.

"But people don't want to be in Limbo either," Cole snarled, the flare of anger seeping out and lacing his words like a thin, biting whip. He might have accepted the fact that he was destined to be here, but he was not going to doom other innocent souls to the same. "Now if you would kindly leave me alone, I have to find this…" the deep voice stopped for a moment, head cocking to the side, and the soul glistened in reply, "This baby girl's place in heaven."

"Yes, but what about you, Cole Turner?" Okay, the voices normally weren't this real, nor did they try and give him some peace of mind. Belittling, sure, they gave that to him in spades, but actually hoping for his welfare? Never.

Which could only mean a very, very cocky soul had come to taunt the traitor Balthazar and former Source (and Cole could and would send him straight to hell and or the Wasteland), or his mind was playing more tricks on him than he cared to admit (which was the more likely of the two). Whirling about, sapphire orbs ignited, full lips pursed into a frowning snarl that he had learned not to utter a very long time ago. This was the Cole that had been vanquished by the Charmed Ones, a passionate creature that had enough fire to ignite the world.

"And what would you know about…" the words dropped, slowly, a steam engine coming to a screeching halt. "Me?" Blue eyes widened, nails biting into his palms until the small baby's soul let out a frantic flash of light, slipping from his grasp to flicker, annoyed, around his head.

The voice, now revealed to be a man, smiled down at the gaping half demon, chucking the brunette's strong jaw in an attempt to close it, an attempt that was failing rather pitifully.

"But you aren't supposed to exist," Cole had found his voice eventually, after close to five minutes of trying to put a coherent sentence together. "The Avatars were supposed to have defeated you and become the Arbiters for the magical realm. You were…"

"Buying our time for someone like you to come along," Deep ebony wings, soft and downy to the touch ruffled around the man's back, long and elegant. They were a sign of a lineage long past, of a group of magical beings that had been eradicated from every plane of existence known to witches and demon alike. Well, that might explain why one was here. Limbo really wasn't a plain of existence technically speaking. "You know, it is an odd thing to find someone who is willing to try and break the balance we had created. So we bought our time, waiting for you to come to us, as eventually we knew that you would."

"But Alterian magic, it isn't around anymore," There, Cole had said it. Alterians. Once upon a time, before demons and witches, before Avatars and the lines of good and evil had been drawn, there had been Alterians. Elemental creatures that were the source of MAGIC, or rather, they were magic in and of themselves, like a unicorn's horn only more powerful, something along those lines- Cole really wasn't sure of anything anymore. But it didn't explain what one was doing here, now, and talking to him of all people. "And if I remember correctly, what few were left, the Underworld hunted down and destroyed for meddling in the Source's affairs. You aren't even supposed to be in Limbo. To say the least after all you did for the world, you should be Up There."

"But that really wouldn't be diplomatic, would it?" The male, because it was a male, ran long, willowy, and impossibly perfect fingers though his ebony locks, deep jade eyes fixing Cole with a pointed glare. "Like the Avatars, we are neither good nor evil. We simply keep the balance, but it seems that evil is the more ambitious of the two. So most of the time it appears we allow good to triumph, and for the most part, the humans that we are supposed to protect WANT good to win. And really, we are supposed to keep the humans happy." Cole snorted.

Of course, good, evil, balance, and peace, they were all relative. They all depended on your point of view. No wonder the man's race had been decimated and forced into hiding. People didn't like being told what to do, as whoever he was had said before.

"And you wonder why you were killed," Cole muttered rebelliously, strong arms crossing over his broad chest; jaded eyes caught the action, and a smirk spread on the horribly perfect face. "You tried the same stint as the Avatars I take it? You tried to make a perfect Utopia by taking away freewill?"

"No," it stated simply, floating in midair, watching, waiting. "We didn't take away free will; we just became a bit more biased in our opinions. You see, darkness did tend to get on the more unruly side, while light kept the peace. Darkness didn't appreciate our interference, and so they revolted. Which is what is going to happen again."

"And you are telling me this because?" It wasn't fun to be yanked this way and that for some bigger plot. It wasn't fun to have hopes raised and then to have them ceremoniously squashed like the proverbial bug on a windshield. It wasn't fun, and Cole Tuner was sick and tired of that too. "The ONLY place I can go outside of Limbo is the Manor, and you know how well that always turns out."

"Yes, but you have a body," Cole flinched visibly. A shuddering of his arms and his eyes fluttered close like he had been visibly burned. It would have been nice if he could forget the fact that he really did have a body because it reminded him that he could in fact feel pain. "And we need that body. You see, Cole Turner," that annoyed the ex-demon, his nostrils flaring as he tried to keep his temper in check. It was always that way; it wasn't like he was needed for anything other than his powers and attributes. It wasn't like he was ever needed for the sake of Cole himself. "You are the only one that we can contact that is a blank slate. When you came to Limbo, you had no powers; you were stripped of all you once were; and you were the perfect sieve. You are the one person that our lineage can be passed onto."

Cole understood the open book part. Hell, he even understood that he was the only body that they could contact. But what he could not and would not understand was why it was HIM that they had to pass their lineage onto. Because quite frankly, he was getting tired of secret plots and scandals that left him high and dry when times were rough. And being an Alterian, changing his race for what had to be the fourth time would definitely be one of those insidious plots he always hated.

"What makes you think that I would want to?" Cole snarled, the small little soul that had gone all but unnoticed until that point in time shifting ever so slightly to nestle protectively around his neck. At least that was something. Big old bad Cole was getting protected by a baby's spirit. Oh the laughs the Charmed Ones would have.

"Because we can take all that pain away. Surely you know that Alterians and Demons were closely related. We don't feel, Cole. We don't have to feel to do what we do. In fact, human emotions might be one of the most dangerous things for an Alterian of every echelon to have emotions. Emotions tie into powers, especially OUR powers." The frown on Cole's face deepened. "So I am not only offering you power beyond your imagination, but I am offering you a way out. I am offering you a way to stop your suffering. I am offering you a way to stop the pain that the Halliwell sisters caused you. I am offering you a way into the history books. I am offering you eternity."

The Alterian's words rung of truth. They spoke of bliss, of sheer emotionless bliss, without pain, without suffering. They spoke of being able to forget all that had happened to him, a way to remove himself from the hell that being neither alive nor dead caused for him.

"I'm all ready in the history books of our kind," Cole tried weakly, face arrayed in a contemplative mask as large fingers ran over the souls around his neck's shimmering spine. "I was the demon that could love. I used to be invincible and the Source of All Evil…"

"But it wasn't enough was it. You found yourself wishing that you could go back to the way things were before you realized you could love. Before you had emotions. That is why you threw yourself into everything at the end. You wanted to make it stop. Now here I am, offering you a way to make it stop, to make sure that you are neither good nor evil, balanced perfectly." Cole stopped the soft patting of the now cooing soul, piercing blue eyes meeting the empty jade, gauging the reaction.

"What would I have to do if I took you up on your offer?"

"Nothing, well, perhaps you would have to take up a charge when we deemed you worthy. A keeper of the balance that we feel needs Alterian guidance. Other than that you would simply exist in the mortal world, a guardian. It could be considered good, it could be considered evil. But if you choose to take on the role we assign you, your heat will stop aching, like I promised."

"What about Whitelighters and guardian angels?" Cole asked; face slowly growing into a more and more agitated anger. "Why couldn't you pick someone else?" The Alterian sighed. Annoying, stubborn, DEMON!

"Yes, Whitelighters and guardian angels are all well and good, but there are special cases that require our help, and with the last of our race here in Limbo, there isn't much we can do, now is there?" Characteristically speaking, the Alterian shouldn't have been loosing his cool, Cole mused. "That is where you come in. You have enough fight to take the change gracefully. Your nature won't let you die; else you wouldn't be here right now. Your fighting spirit is what is going to save this world, and you are going to do it under the Alterian banner."

"What makes you think that I would agree to be your puppet?" Cole asked, the tiredness and anger slowly ebbing away. He was tired of pretending that it didn't hurt and that he wanted to live this life. It was hard to pretend that everything was okay, and here this person, er, being was, offering him a way to end it all.

"You listened to me," the ebony haired Alterian shrugged, offering a hand out to the demon who had started to ignore the soul around him entirely. "You listened to me, and you heard the truth in my words. You know that you can't be good, even the Charmed Ones told you that. Yet you can't be evil, not after good left such an impression on you. The only choice IS to be out Arbiter. And you know it."

"You sound like the Avatars," Cole quipped half heartedly, looking at the perfect outstretched hands, taking the time to memorize how utterly FLAWLESS the person before him was. And the Alterian knew it. Would Cole get to be that horribly flawless to? Ivory teeth worried a full bottom lip, indecision such as he hadn't felt in a very long time welling up into the pit of his stomach. "Fine, I'll do it."

A triumphant smile was on the perfect face, willowy fingers lacing with the non resistant grip of the demon, a blinding light causing piercing azure orbs to flick close with a sigh of almost contentment at no longer feeling the horrible, heart rending pain that crippled him with each breath he drew in.

"Cole, you made the right choice," Cole didn't say a word because nothing could cause the black fogginess in the back of his mind that was so wonderfully all enveloping. "Or should I say, Gabriel? Because I think that I now pronounce you Gabriel, Arbiter for the Alterians. A wonderful name…" The Fingers slowly marched over the gradually relaxing face, the spell taking effect on the demon. "Because you CANNOT be Cole Turner any longer." Azure eyes looked up, partially hooded and sparking with knowledge. Cole had known that something like this was going to happen, it always did.

Being drugged, changed, everything was part of the territory. Even changing names. Cole let out a slightly muffled reply, eyes closing the rest of the way.

* * *

All right, sorry that this chapter was like… boring talking, but I had to fill in some information or most of you would be going WTF?!?! The Sisters will be in the next one, and well, you know who Cole's charges are going to be. I hope... xD 

Hmmm, just to let you know, I am looking for someone to be a proofreader, so just ask me if you are interested.

Oh, PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!


	2. Into the Rabbit Hole AGAIN!

**Thanks for Making Me…**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Charmed or the lyrics used for the title of this story.

**Summary:** So, I have the layout (outline) of the story all ready to be written. Sorry if I confused any of you in the last chapter or it seemed like it was moving too quickly. I really just wanted to jump in and get us all wet. Sorry if I proverbially drenched a few of you who wanted to test the waters fist. Geeze, I'm rambling. The Charmed Ones will be in this chapter and Cole… er, Gabriel. You know who I meant. xD **Yeah, I don't know if in this one Coop and Phoebe should be married or not since it is pretty much a divergence from after Cole saves Piper (Season 7). Tell me what you think on the subject, please.**

**Song to listen to (if you want, I might be off my rocker): **"It's not Over"- Daughtry or for the more classical (instrumental) of you out there: "Duel" by Bond

_**Into the Rabbit Hole (AGAIN!)**_

* * *

Azure orbs, the color of the storm, which was spraying tiny iridescent drops of rain over him, blinked absently from their position in a handsome face, and a sense of contentment exuded from the being in question with faultless lips open and willing to allow air to flow from them. It was a handsome creature that stood, a vengeful angel, towering over the people and bustle of the Californian city of San Francisco. It was the face of an angel that watched the crowd, yet if one would look closely enough, they could see the fire of a demon burning within him, distorted and tainted beneath a mask of emotionless void. Like looking at a flickering bonfire across the Grand Canyon. 

"I can't believe they talked me into this," emotionless calm was spread over his face, which spoke of an objective world view. It had been three years; three very long years since the Alterians had made their call, and it had been three years since he had held any semblance of feelings inside of himself. The dark and angry hatred and passionately burning fire of love had all but vanished from his person. It had been three years, and three years had made their difference. It had sharpened his mind (the removal of the pain and anger) with such a terrifying clarity; he had to wonder how he could have lived with it before. "The Charmed ones. Of all the people in the entire world, it had to be the Charmed Ones." A small flickering white soul moved around his face, shining and moving worriedly at how he seemed even slightly agitated.

Unfortunately, the three years had done little to dull the potency of the memories, of how much they HAD the ability to hurt him, even if the pain from them was gone. The being known as Gabriel, or once Cole Turner (he preferred the latter of the two), felt no pain from them, but the Alterian's promises of an emotionless nothingness had disappeared the moment they informed him that the highest echelon of Alterians were not suited to not having emotions.

Because in order to exact the perfect amount of justice, there had to be some remorse in actions and words.

Absently, perfectly downy white wings, the very epitome of light and innocence, flicked off rolling drops of water, their long, flowing elegance folding with a snapping "whoosh" behind broad shoulders. White wings, the sign of cherubs and seraphs, the angelic host, were what adorned the newly made Alterian's back, their feathers glossy and horrifyingly perfect against the backdrop of a rocky crag.

That too was something that was different than your average Alterian. White wings were rare. No, they were beyond rare, white wings signified something… well, something. Cole really didn't take the time to delve into it further. Not with the prospect of new charges had called his attention almost immediately. A small smirk slowly marched across Cole's face, and strong arms folded on a broad chest.

"And they knew," small wings on the side of his head flipping absently at the rain drops, keeping them from falling into his eyes. A slightly hissing noise drew his attention for barely a moment to the small girl's soul, the silvery substance settling around his neck in a contented sigh. "They knew that I was going to have to watch over the Charmed Ones the moment I said 'yes' to helping them." They lied. Cole shuffled from foot to foot, eyes scanning the horizon for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. "And so they send me here, telling me that something is going to happen; and that there is going to be a storm to make sure that humans don't see anything that they aren't supposed to." It was like being an Avatar all over again, pretentious people in charge of you. He hated it.

Which surprised him. Hate wasn't in the emotions that he was "allowed" to feel, of which the list was very, very short. Righteous fury, a tinge of happiness, and then an over ruling sense of calm. Those were the emotions that he was allowed to feel, and hatred was most definitely not one of those.

Still, it was a nice change from the static learning and knowledge that had been forcibly crammed into his mind with each passing day when he had painstakingly gained control over his new body and powers. It was nice to feel something besides what the Alterians deemed worthy, and he relished every minute of it. Even if it lasted for a few moments in time before the emotionless training kicked back in, it was nice to break the mold every once in a while.

* * *

Normally, when things were going well, it was better not to say "it sure is going well." Every person (magical or not) knew that, but Paige would have liked to have given her sister Phoebe a crash course in it anyways. After all, Phoebe was the person that had made a remark like that earlier this morning, and since that was the case, she was the reason they were sitting here brewing potions and coming up with rhyming spells. As soon as those words had been uttered, the middle Charmed One had been thrown into a premonition. And that premonition had been a very, very frightening one.

"I don't see why you had to say it," Piper was sitting beside her, bouncing a chattering Wyatt on her lap. "Whenever anyone says that 'nothing can go wrong' or 'man, things sure are quiet' something BIG always happens to go wrong."

"I was just remarking on something that I saw," Phoebe mentioned, reading glasses perched on the end of her dainty nose, lips pressed into a frown as she looked at her sister. "How was I supposed to know that there would actually be several demons waiting for us to say something like that?" Of course it was time for something to go wrong, after the close to seven months without the slightest blip on the demon radar, there should have been some sort of warning to the sisters. Things that were normally silent for a very long time proved to be a very bad thing. They meant the Underworld was scheming.

"But if I remarked on everything that I always saw," Paige quipped from her position over a boiling cauldron, "I wouldn't have very many friends or have Henry, now would I?" A small puff of smoke filled the room, slowly choking her senses, and dainty hands swatted at the black plume without any real effect.

"I'd be you friend," Wyatt remarked seriously, slipping from his mother's lap and embracing the bare legs of his Aunty Paige, his small cherubic face contorted into a minute grimace at the smell engulfing the both of them.

"Oh, I know you would, honey," The witch slowly dipped down, giving her nephew an endearing squeeze around the shoulder. "But I was just trying to tell your Aunt Phoebe that she shouldn't go around complaining about the quiet. Not when she has no excuse to."

"I was just saying," The middle sister tried again, swallowing the rest of the words before they could be issued for fear the glares the other two Halliwell witches were sending her direction. "It was unusually quiet that is all."

"And now, honey, we have a demon that we can't seem to pin down. He has been appearing and reappearing around in your premonitions, and you also said there was going to be a very good chance that something even more powerful is going to come around and kill him. I thought we always told you never to look a gift horse in the mouth!" Piper flipped absently through the pad of paper, eyes scanning over the yellowed pages to check rhyming scheme.

Mocha eyes closed slightly, the glasses slipping the rest of the way from Phoebe's nose, fingers rubbing the wispy ebony locks from a high forehead. They were right; she would be the first to admit that. Things had been unusually good for the family, no incidents with love lives, no innocence being picked off, and her love life had been going remarkably well (for her past track record with relationships), but still, there had been an overwhelming rain cloud on their parade, just waiting to burst with a torrent of bad luck.

That day seemed to be today.

"I still can't seem to find him in here," it was said with an undertone of murderous intent, Phoebe throwing the Halliwell Book of Shadows closed with a resounding, loud, and dusty thunk. Nothing at all had been in the book. Phoebe snorted in disgust, looking up at her older sister that was sitting beside her. Piper's eyebrows arched in mild confusion at her sister's outburst of anger at the book that had helped to save their butts on several different occasions.

"What do you mean you can't find him in there?" Paige asked, voiced muffled from the dishrag pressed to her face. "You said that you found the first demon without a hitch. You are saying that you can't find the second one?" Sure, the Book of Shadows was a bit incomplete, as it stood now, they were still adding to it, but the fact that there wasn't even an allusion to a demon in it was quite odd.

"They don't even have a f-," Phoebe stopped at the glare sent to her by Piper and a quizzical glance upward by Wyatt. The oldest Halliwell pulled her son against her chest, whispering something into his ear, which must have been a dismissal because he tottered rapidly from the room. It was all the incentive Phoebe needed to continue on her rant. "They don't even have a description of him in here. It is like we are facing a new race."

"I highly doubt it is a new race," Piper muttered as she ran fingers through her long chestnut locks. "There is barely a race out there not in the book, and I don't think the Underworld would send a race like the one you described out there. Not if this," A pencil waved in the general direction of the Book of Shadows, her gaze not leaving the spell before her. She grimaced, finally tearing her attention from the paper to fix her sister with a patented "older sibling" glare. "Azazel is a high enough level to attack us without help. I would have to say that whoever this is has their own agenda."

"But like you said," The dishrag flew in the general direction of the sink, Paige sliding next to Piper, flipping to the face of Azazel with a glare of annoyance. "It sounds like a new race, but demons generally don't have wings." Big white wings were classically a sign of divine intervention, not demonic plague. And even angels didn't have big white wings like the mysterious premonition person had. Leo and Paige were point and case of that.

"Maybe Leo would know something?" Large eyes glowered down at the book for a few moments, Phoebe's gaze tearing back up to her sisters. "I know that it isn't usually his specialty, demonology, but it is better than just SITTING here." Because in approximately one hour and fifteen minutes (she had caught a glimpse of the clock in her premonition), there were going to be two demons (one was still debatable), sitting in their backyard, intending to duke it out regardless of whether or not the Charmed Ones were there.

"Pheebs," Piper started, sighing in defeat before leaning her head back, the next words loud and obnoxious, nearly impossible for anyone to miss. Times like these made her wish that Leo was still a Whitelighter. You didn't have to yell obscenely loudly, and he could be there in seconds. "LEO! LEO WE NEED YOU!"

The small smirk that had been on plastered onto Paige's lips melted away instantly, replaced by a grimace as she clapped her hands over her ears in an attempt to keep the banshee yell from getting to her. It wasn't just Piper, she mused, that missed Leo being a Whitelighter, it was hard NOT to miss the old days when Piper insisted on bellowing to get her husband's attention.

A few curses later, and several loud noises that shook the house, a disgruntled Leo appeared in the door way, eyes glancing over each face of his once charges, looking for any sign of damage to their person in question. Close to three minutes later, after he was thoroughly satisfied that it was indeed just another false alarm; he allowed the rigid posture that he had kept to relax, sitting down beside Phoebe with a scowl at his wife.

"You scared me," he admitted after a while, voice chiding if not a bit condescending without a hint of anger laced in it. It was always like this. Leo would get scared, Piper would brush it off as nothing, and they would move on. "Haven't I told you before not to yell like that?"

"Sorry, honey," Piper's tone said that she was anything but, as was shown by her sudden jump in conversation. "But Phoebe needed your help finding out who the demon in her premonition was. The Book of Shadows doesn't really seem to have much in it about him or his race." Two eye brows arched at this, the sandy haired male running a hand though his hair in an attempt to calm himself down from the rush of adrenaline that had accompanied his mad dash down the stairs.

"What makes you think that I could help you with this?" Leo asked, genuinely curious as to what could have THE Charmed Ones asking for his help. Generally demonology was left to those who really had to deal with it in everyday life. Not that he didn't have to, but without his Whitelighter abilities, he rather enjoyed his life away from the constant fear of coming too late to save the ones he loved.

"Well, you see," Phoebe began before letting out yet another exasperated sigh. "If you don't stop feeling so confused about it…" The hand stopped running through short sandy locks to be held up, palm forward in a sign of peace. Damn Empathy. "I just thought that you might know what this means." The pen was plucked from Piper's hands before being placed to the empath's own pad of paper, a few quick marks ensuing. Handing it over to the ex-Whitelighter, she placed the pen into her mouth only to have it grabbed back by Piper with a snort of revulsion at the drool on the tip.

"Are those wings?" The paper was turned around, upside down, side to side, anything to get a better idea of what the stick figure was trying to represent. Phoebe grunted disgustedly at the confusion rolling off her brother-in-law before tugging the paper back and turning it right side up. Honestly, her drawing wasn't THAT bad.

"Yes, yes they are," She tried to look offended at the implications that it could be anything OTHER than wings. "From what I could tell before Paige orbed the mask from him, he had two wings on his back, two wings on the side of his head, and I think there might have even been two wings on his legs. You know, what people think of when they think of Seraphim."

"Phoebe, I have _seen_ Seraphim, and this doesn't look like a Seraph," Leo interjected, looking over the paper with interest. The fact of the matter was, regardless of whether or not Phoebe's drawing skills were any good; this figure didn't appear to belong to any class of angel he had ever seen before. And he had seen them all. "But I have seen something like this before, in some of the books in Magic School. There was a short little entry in a demonic book about these kinds of people." A triumphant look flashed across the empath's face.

"See, I told you that it was a demon," she informed her sisters, taking the yellow paper from Leo's yielding hands. "There was no way that something that powerful couldn't have an ulterior motive."

"He's not a demon," The rant was cut short, all the air deflating from her argument, a slight pout making itself comfortable on her face. "If what you saw is real, he isn't even supposed to exist."

"Do you mind telling us what you are talking about?" Paige quipped, her own light brown eyes snapping from the position across from Leo. She was tired of being ignored in this conversation. "Because I sure would like to know what you mean by the fact that he isn't supposed to exist, and yet she saw him plain as day."

"I am not saying that Phoebe is wrong," he held his hands out again in a call for peace. "I am just saying that it is really odd that one would be here of all places." Blue eyes caught the glare of his wife before he quickly reiterated his statement. "By all accounts, the Avatars, when I was one of them, told me that the race of Alterians were long gone. That there weren't anymore _left_ in any realm."

"Wait," Piper stopped the conversation, confusion writing itself on her face. "You said 'Alterian' as in THE 'Alterians' the once rulers of the magical realm. The impartial judges that first drew the lines of light and dark magic, THOSE Alterians?" Leo grimaced, nodding his head ruefully as the decibels of his wife slowly began to grow louder and louder and higher and higher. "You have got to be kidding me!"

"Well, it would explain how he was able to destroy a high level demon as quickly as Phoebe claimed, and it would also explain the wings on a human body. Not to mention, after the demon purge, some were said to have disappeared into Limbo without ever being recorded as vanquished." Leo winced at his wife's tone, glancing at the two other sisters for support.

"So he can be vanquished?" Normally, under certain circumstances, vanquishing someone would become a top priority when faced with the fact that they could kill you with the bat of a… er… wing. But that little fact didn't seem to take into account the person in question could be a force of good or in the very least an innocent. And if he was going to kill a demon, he had to be a force of good or a demon with the same intentions as the Charmed Ones at least. Leo shook his head at Phoebe's question.

"They aren't really vanquished; it is more like they cease to exist. But in order to do that, you have to have a specific type of poison that involves enough blood of innocence to wipe out half of the shore line and a touch of pure evil with unicorn horn. The poison is nearly impossible to find."

"So we just let him come in and roll over us?" The voice took on a tone of hysteria now, for the life that would be shattered if the Alterian chose to have concealed motives. "We just let him have his way with out family and then let him walk all over the world with that sort of power?"

"No," Leo shook his head, a strong hand gripping his wife's shoulder and squeezing gently. "If he is going to be here, then it means that he is here to protect someone. And I have a feeling it is a force of good if he is killing off demons. As ultimate keeper of the balance, there has to be a reason why good is being protected. Think about it."

* * *

Five minutes.

In exactly five minutes he would be in the Charmed One's backyard, wings out stretched as pure magic would race through his veins. In five minutes, he would freefall in a perfect synchronization of magic and sheer power. In five minutes, he would stop referring to himself as Cole and would have to start using the name Gabriel, which he hated more than having to be in charge of the Halliwell's well being. Because leaving his name behind, that truly meant there was no going back. It meant he was so thoroughly lost in the new world that there was no way to be saved.

His consideration turned, the small, shining, and colorless soul flitting around his face, following him like a comet streaking across the sky. It was odd that it was still around and actually able to be in the human world with him. Normally, souls were not allowed onto the plane of the living. Then again, Alterians always were known to bend the rules of time and space, which was why Cole was able to be in the living realm in the first place.

"I still can't believe it," His fingers trailed down the nape of his neck, finding the odd parody of a mask around his neck, ready to be used to hide the face of Cole Turner from the world. "That it all leads back to this. Cycles are so overrated, didn't anyone tell them that?" If it could have laughed, he was sure the small little creature that had taken to following him would have. It would have been a pealing laughter, like little bells. However, the thought, no matter how cute and nice it was to normal people, didn't cause a smile to appear on his face.

Instead, the ribbon ties of the mask slipped through his fingers, the clothe fitting over his face securely. It was sort of stupid to have something on his face. The Charmed Ones weren't stupid, and with Paige's powers, it was certain that "Gabriel" would be unmasked the moment they didn't trust him.

Which would be as soon as he landed in their back yard.

Blue pools sparked with some unnamed emotion beneath the swath of plastic and silken ribbon. They weren't going to trust him, regardless of whether or not he was wearing a mask, and he couldn't care less. A smirk slowly quirked the side of his lips. They wouldn't trust him, but unlike before, the deep feeling of resentment did not manage to distort his clarity. The heartbreak at knowing that he was never going to be deserving of their trust no longer wove through him with a crippling agony. No longer did pain keep his mind from sharpness.

The wings beat again, wind whipping though them, dragging and fluttering them about in an odd dance.

Five minutes. In five minutes his new life would TRULY start, and he would jump back into the world of the Charmed Ones in a place of prominence. What fun he would have.

Really.

* * *

All right, just some more talk. Yay, right… I know you all like talk. So please review. Next chapter, we are going to put two and three tomorrow. Yeah, Cole and the Charmed Ones are actually going to MEET! lol. Sorry that this one was boring… And I don't know if Leo's eyes are blue or not, just roll with me here, people. I am sorry, my brain was just in the middle of a fart. 

Anyways, REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!

Oh and sorry if I confused you…


	3. Rain Drops Keep Falling on My Head

**A/N: **Holy HELL! Well, let's just say that a lot of things have changed, and then I found this gem of a chapter, stashed away in my computer. I know that I have taken close to two years to update, and most of you thought me dead and are more or less pissed at my lack of updating, but I can assure you that it was some pretty rotten circumstances that graced my life (Grandma battling and losing to cancer, having to help raise brothers and sisters while mom was helping said grandma... it's a longer list...), so I have lovingly picked this story back up, and have begun to brush off the cobwebs and crusty corners.

So all that to say... I'll be trying to revamp and retool. I just need you guys to give me a good kick in the ass once in a while to get me going. :)

**Music To listen Too (if you feel so inclined):** "New Divide"- Linkin Park, "From Ritz to the Rubble"- The Artic Monkeys, "The Great Divide"- Jonathan Elias (For you classical lovers out there :) ))

And please, again, don't flame me. ;_;

_**"Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head "**_

* * *

Rain brought change. It herald spring, made things green, and could take life just as quickly as it could provide. Rain was inherently magical. Ancient races had worshipped the rain, the sky that provided it, and always associated it with fertility. Rain was a sign of change. Intrinsically, Phoebe knew this. Phoebe knew that this rain was going to bring the greatest change that they had ever faced. She could smell it; and from the way that Paige and Piper had become increasingly antsy as "zero hour" approached, they could feel the change as well.

Magic was in the rain. The hair on Phoebe's arm stood with the feel of it clinging in each and every drop that fell.

"I don't like this," Paige stated for the fifteenth time in the ten minute span. Piper had already snapped at her and then apologized. Nobody could blame the eldest Charmed One. Her face was tight and drawn and weariness wrapped about her in the way that her hair fell around in sweaty wisps. Arguably, she had the most to lose if this whole ordeal went south as most encounters tended to do.

"Magic is in the air," Leo agreed, looking through the Book. He didn't have magic, but one did not live in contact with magic for more than half a century without being able to practically taste it. "It's not a natural rain."

"Thank you captain obvious," Paige quipped, rubbing the back of her neck and orbing a potion ingredient towards her. It looked like foxglove, which Phoebe had been convinced they had been out of. Piper sent Paige a glare, and the youngest at least had the decency to look a bit abashed. "What?"

Piper let out a tight laugh, relaxing ever so slightly at Paige's simple look.

"Nothing," Piper breathed, resting her hand on the glass bottles and passing them over to Phoebe who stood before the caldron, stirring first clockwise, then counter clockwise.

"You aren't still trying to come up with a potion to vanquish the Alterian, are you?" Leo asked, glancing over the shoulder of the brunette. Phoebe looked up, barely over the shoulder and met him with a mild glare. She wasn't nearly as good as it as Piper was, but Leo could tell that she had been practicing in the very least.

"What does it matter if I am?" She quipped, childishly almost. Though she knew that Leo was only trying to help, it didn't hurt to be prepared, did it? Leo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck again. It was a habit he picked up when he felt particularly exasperated or in need of smacking something. It was better than hurting his hand (the table certainly wouldn't be hurt if he decided to punch it). Looking at the spell that Phoebe had been going off of, he snorted.

"This is just going to piss him off," Leo stated, succinctly. Piper grabbed the paper from his hand. It was a Power of Three spell. She glanced and Phoebe who wasn't quite meeting her glance, but when she did, had a dark, rebellious look in her deep chocolate eyes that Piper had thought she had long since outgrown. Prue had been on the receiving ends of such glares more often than not.

"It won't hurt," She decided after a moment, setting the paper down.

"But..." Leo began, staring at Piper with a frown flickering across his face.

"It won't hurt," Piper repeated, firmly, leveling a cool, calm stare at her husband that had him backing up just the smallest amount.

Who knew, this thing might not even be an Alterian. For all they knew, it could be some demon with a glamour on, powerful enough to fool them. It could just be a demon, and then there was no need to be freaking out. They could handle this and get back to the lull of peacefulness.

"No demon could cause a storm like this," Leo tried to reason. To himself, mostly. They generally listened to his advice. Generally, but when it came to "mama bear mode" as the ex-Whitelighter affectionately called it, there was not stopping the Charmed Ones when they were in full swing, trying to protect their own. And unfortunately or not, he now fit into the category of "own that needed to be protected at all costs because he doesn't have any magical powers anymore." He'd have to come up with a more brief name when there wasn't a crisis.

"Well, what is the worst thing the could happen if you pissed him off and he really was an Alterian anyways?" Paige looked up from the bottle potions, one for each sister for the demon. It was sad to say that his name slipped in and out of their minds every so often; however, when faced with the prospect of a being of pure, unadulterated elemental magic, things such as demon attacks (a regular occurrence) tended to take a back burner. "I mean, really, the Source of All Evil was taken down by the Power of Three."

Leo considered her question a moment, resting his hand against the counter and sucking on his lower lip. The rest of the sisters had stopped what they were doing momentarily to stare at him. He had their attention, and he was not going to waste this time trying to talk some sort of sense into them.

"Do you remember hearing about the Flood?"

"As in Genesis and Noah and the Arky Arky?" Paige questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her hip in an almost offended pose.

"That's the one," Paige rolled her doe-like eyes, shaking her head at the obvious lack of any sort of knowledge her brother-in-law seemed to think that she had.

"Who doesn't remember the Flood?"

"An Alterian caused it," Leo tapped his lips. "There isn't much written on the race. They have been around for eons and eons, and what little information on them that survived the purges of time is inconclusive. But up there they say that a young Alterian, coming into his powers, was jilted by a lover and the anger that he felt caused a torrential rain to descend upon the earth and destroy it."

Phoebe whistled, lowly, turning off the burner under the cauldron and looking at Leo. Her fingers drummed thoughtfully upon the table, lips pursed.

"What else?"

"Dinosaurs?" Leo provided. "Supposedly the Alterians destroyed them too. Another accident. That could be how they began to restrict the emotions of the lower cast. They are not known for their overwhelming emotional outbursts. The lower Alterians are not allowed to feel and are blocked from doing so, supposedly."

"And the higher ones?"

"Nobody has ever come into contact with a Highbreed Alterian," Leo shrugged. "And what little we know about the lower tiers of the Alterian society extends to legend, myth, and lies. Up There doesn't know much about the race either. And the Avatars knew even less." And he had been with all of them.

"So you are saying," Phoebe bean, slowly, reaching for the spell she had written and waving it about. "That even if we hit him with a Power of Three spell, if he is of the lower tier of Alterians, we could cause another Genesis Flood or wipe out... I don't know... some sort of animal from existence?"

Leo winced.

"Yes?" Piper let out a breath, clapping her hands together in mimicry of a football coach or player. A fire crackled in her light brown eyes.

"So what if he is a Highbreed Alterian?" She asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Then he's probably got enough control over his emotions to keep from getting pissed off, but probably has the power to wink the world out of existence."

"No Genesis flood?" Paige questioned, a bit hopefully. Her head was tilted upwards a bit.

"I'm guessing Atomic Bomb. Only quicker. There probably wouldn't even be fragments," Leo sighed, feeling a bit queasy about the idea of the world just "winking out of existence" as he put it. All the history and balance lost if some sort of being lost his temper. It was entirely too much power. It made one wonder just how the Alterians had been hunted to near extinction.

"Quick. Very Quick," Paige whistled, "At least it's quicker than the Flood," she returned to the vials of potions, pushing back up the sleeves on her white blouse and handing each vial to her sisters. Her gaze flickered to the clock, resting her fingers reassuringly over reach person's hands. Phoebe's cool ones, Piper's smooth, yet firm ones, and Leo's slightly calloused one's. "Looks like zero hour is here." Phoebe let out a breath and looked through the window were the demon would be settling. It was the least of her worries if her visions had been correct. Azazel was supposed to come in, screaming and hissing in true demon form.

"You know what to do," Piper informed Leo, kissing him quickly on the lips and staring upwards with a deep affection in her eyes. Above that there was her typical need to protect, and Leo wasn't going to argue with her.

"Stay in the house. No matter what I hear. At least," Leo added as an afterthought, strong arms wrapping about her waist and holding her close. His nose buried itself in her hairs and his eyes, for however brief a moment, closed and he inhaled, letting her mothering, earthy scent soothe whatever nerves he felt. "this time." Piper smiled ever so slightly.

"And whenever I tell you, else I'll have to kick your butt," She released her husband, joining her sisters. Paige gave a good luck "thumbs up" sign, her face attempting and failing a bit to seem... unworried. Phoebe gave him a wobbly smile, which he accepted.

"So don't piss off the Alterian?" Paige asked, one final, hopeful question. Because it would be so much easier to piss him off and vanquish him than to deal with whatever news he brought. She shifted from foot to foot, antsy.

"Right, don't piss off the super powerful being sent to perhaps protect the greater good."

* * *

They had sent him to face them. They had sent him with the utmost confidence in his abilities. He was, after all, more than qualified to take on witches long past their prime. He was part of the inner sanctum. He had been that much closer to the Source of All Evil. He knew what the Charmed ones were capable of, and he was prepared to deal with them accordingly.

His golden head, the mockery of the angelic host, bowed ever so slightly, his handsome, sharp face arrayed into a mask of indifference. Braids of the corn silk locks licked the side of his clean shaven face, and what wasn't held back by braids was cascading and erupting in a riot of wild curls that seemed to defy the rain that tumbled from the sky. In fact, the person in question did not seem the least bit annoyed by the rain that he was currently standing in, a bulwark against the elements. Though it was hard to tell whether or not he would actually show the annoyance even if it did come to pass. For all intents and purposes, he seemed like a normal, handsome human, save the small horns the curled from his forehead.

Azazel of the Precipice was not pleased. He just didn't show it. Not quite yet. Not until the woman came from the house. Not until they walked through the door and confronted him with their pitiful powers. He wouldn't lose his temper, he would allow the poison of anger to wash over him, bottled and contained like the nastiest, sweetest poison and taint his powers. For there was where true power lay, in the anger and the ability to channel it.

His thin lips parted, tilting up his head and meeting the rain defiantly. The braids fell to the side, resting against the black cloak and black doublet. He was of the older sort, and was suited quite well to the old garb when on a mission such as this. No need existed to reside among the sniveling, scuttling humans, and soon he would be back, plotting in the Underworld with his master.

"Come out, come out, come out," The voice sounded like it had been infused with gravel, low and deep and guttural. His teeth clacked together, avoiding a pink tongue with sharp, yellowed fangs as he spoke, and the rigid form that he had taken before melted away as he loped forward, more beast than man in the gait. His fingers clicked together, stretching and moving in a fashion that wasn't natural at all.

"You sure that you want us to come out?" A definitely feminine voice. The demon took a breath, reveling in the scent of witch. A scent that meant victory. It was the eldest one. It had to be the eldest one. "You have disturbed our peace," The voice continued. Sickly yellow eyes trailed over the back yard, over the plants and toward the house where he could make out the form of a woman. No, that wasn't right, was it? Three woman. He could smell them each, the earth of the eldest, the water of the middle, and the air of the youngest. He could smell and taste them, taste their anger and discomfort and desire to protect. He inhaled again.

"I'm quite sure," He growled, and could practically smell the annoyance that rippled through them. His booted feet made an ominous sound on the stone of their patio, cape lightly rippling behind him in unnatural wind. "Don't you think that you want to see me too?"

"We can see you just fine from here," Paige Matthews. It had to be the Whitelighter. The angelic essence was practically coating the voice, making him nauseous and annoyed.

"Well I can't see you, isn't it a good idea to see your advisory before you die?" His voice was attempting to sound sweet. It rose a few octaves, honey replacing the gravel as he whispered, almost there. He could make out each individual face through the blasted rain.

"I don't know, why don't you tell us?" A shuffling and he could see as they threw a potion. It rammed against the ground with a crackling explosion. And there was light, so much light. It burned against his eyes as he inhaled again, head tilted back and the rocky laughter spilling from his lips.

"Nice try," He commented, and heard a bit more frantic shuffling. His head tilted back downwards coquettishly, "but you are going to have to do much better if you wish to defeat the likes of me."

"They will not have to," A deep voice echoed. It moved about, whispering with the something beyond demon or witch or angels. It caused Azazel's teeth to ache and clench together. Those words, that voice.

"What?" He hissed, looking through the rain that seemed to grown denser with the addition of this new stranger. Fear, an uncommon emotion that had never been a part of his vocabulary crept through his spine like a punch to the gut. He wheezed a bit, hawk yellow eyes catching a glimpsed of the Charmed ones. They were shifting together, faces a bit uncertain as the voice continued.

"You will no longer trouble the Charmed Ones," The voice continued, all around him. It was in his ear, in his head, crawling about his skin, thousands of worms. His clawed fingers scratched at his skin.

"What makes you think that you stand a chance against me?" He screamed toward the rain, looking about frantically. Just what was this? What sort of ally did the Charmed Ones possess? For this was no power of the Witches Three.

"Because," The voice continued. The rain stopped, the drizzle lessened, revealing a man. Just a man then. He was hunched in the most peculiar manner, what the demon assumed was his back toward him. "You have already sealed your fate."

"What do you mean?" The Charmed Ones were forgotten for the moment. The rain continued to fade, misting away, and revealing more and more. A small orb whipped about wildly, blinking in a sparkling light. It settled across the mans shoulder in a way that vaguely reminded the demon of a snake/cat mix. There was something off about the silhouette now.

"You were dead," The figure stated, emotionless and stood to its full height. White, that was all that could be seen, an all consuming white. It had wings, such pure wings. The feathers glistened as they stretched and his back arched, showing off the frame. A wonderfully powerful frame with sloping muscles. The wings shivered in the wind and the sun peeked behind the nearly blacked clouds, casting a glow around the figure.

"What?"

"You were dead, Azazel of the Precipice," The figure stated, turning a masked face toward him. There were no eyes, a soulless expression adorned the simple mask. There was nothing absolutely nothing on the porcelain or perhaps plastic that covered the winged beings features from view. The voice didn't give away anything other than cold justice and the fear spiked.

"You cannot kill me," Azazel commented, straightening his back for a moment, glaring at the creature. "Even the fabled Charmed Ones could not kill me."

"Given the chance," the creature continued, walking forward. His steps were not loud. They were barely existent as he glided onward, a wraith upon the wind. A ghostly farce of what true beings, true passions were. His hands reached forward, gauntlets attached to strong hands that gripped the demon's face. "They would have defeated you," The creature smelled of nothing and everything at the same time. Like the creation and death of the universe. Pure spirit. Nothing human or demon. The smell burned and destroyed his nose. "Just as I am going to defeat you."

The hands tightened ever so slightly, and Azazel had barely enough time to register before he was no more but a plume of fire, the very symbol of a creature of passion that was trapped beneath the face of the Alterian.

* * *

He was beautiful.

That was the only world that could describe him. His body was human, but there was no way that those wings could belong to any sort of human being. And his body was built, obviously. Beneath the armor there were arcs and curves that undulated as he moved with each step. His clothing, clothe in some places swirled as he moved towards Azazel with all the loping grace of a wolf.

"Is that him?" Paige whispered, obviously as transfixed as Phoebe was. Her voice contained a hint of awe as the three Charmed sisters stared. His hands moved gracefully, inhumanly, touching the side of the creatures face before the demon burst into flames.

"Yep," Piper grunted, watching as the Alterian stood back, settling on his heels and letting out a breath. "How long would you say he had been there for?"

"Since the beginning," Phoebe whispered back. "He's been there since the beginning," Her gaze narrowed, fingers tightening about the vanquishing potion. Power was practically hanging in the air. Pure magic that made her insides twist and her legs to jitter with nervous energy. Antsy. The magic made her antsy like she had sucked on a unicorn's horn or ingested the unicorn's pure magic. "We can't let that keep going."

"Do you think that we have a choice?" Paige whispered, looking at Phoebe with a bit of apprehension. "He just turned that demon into Barbeque and didn't even break a sweat. I think that we should just..."

"What is your name?"

"... wait and see?"

The thing turned toward them, inclining its masked head. He seemed to consider them for a moment, and the small orb about his neck floated from its perch, approaching with some trepidation. The same trepidation that the sisters felt toward it. Reaching forward, it shone with a curious light, shifting shape from orb to oblong pill and back to orb before settling on Phoebe first and making a soft cooing noise. It whirled forward, ghosting about her legs and then turned attention to Piper and Paige, making another obviously pleased sound.

The figure watched, silently. He didn't make a move toward them, just stood with his wings outstretched. All six of them. Wind rustled against them, musically almost. He didn't exude any emotion, however, and Phoebe was hit by a sudden sadness of the fact. There wasn't a pleasure at having defeated an enemy. There wasn't even any blood lust. Nothing, nothing at all. A brick wall blockaded her senses, and the feeling reminded her of having an arm cut off or maybe a heart. Something. How could a living, breathing creature feel nothing at all? No, that wasn't true, there was an echo of emotions, but he was like a pumpkin, hollowed out and empty except a few extra seeds and the smell of the innards.

"Again," She took a step forward, ignoring the arm that snatched out to stop her. Piper made a nose of warning in the back of her throat, and Phoebe turned, petite nose scrunched up in a warning. "I ask who you are."

Piper was almost afraid that he would refuse her sister's demands and she would have to try and use her power on him. Though if what Leo had said was true, they would probably only serve to piss the creature off. But from the way that he had handled the demon, she wasn't quite sure what she could do to get him off kilter. Her hand tightened around Phoebe's arm, stopping her a second time.

"Gabriel," It spoke. The first time that the voice had been directed at them. Familiar in an unpleasant way, it washed over their nerves. Paige turned to Phoebe who nodded, once. The creature turned to the side, curling those wings back about himself in a downy cloak. "Gabriel of the Alterians, Arbiter for this world."

"Arbiter?" Paige mouthed. Piper shrugged, nodding toward Phoebe who was taking another step before both girls could catch her. Her pretty face was arrayed in a frown, an angry frown.

"You seem familiar to me," She admitted, hands going to her shapely hips. "Have we met?" The Alterian, Gabriel shifted from side to side, masked face turned up toward the sun. It hid his hair even, impossible to tell its color, curls or no. It made Phoebe mad.

"I suppose we may have a lifetime ago," Gabriel agreed, lifting a hand toward the sun. The orb that had been hanging about the floor for the time being scooted forward, wrapping about the outstretched arm and settling with a content little blip of light. Would the face beneath that mask be smiling, would it be frowning? Phoebe nodded to Paige again.

"You will not tell me more?"

The thing inclined its head a bit.

"I do not feel the need, no."

"Mask!" The creature seemed to sigh at this. Almost as if it had been expecting what was about to happen. The mask disappeared, revealing at first nothing. Nothing except a mass of short curls of the richest chestnut. they curled about the nape of a slightly tanned neck. Phoebe felt her heart increase, fear and anger mingling together into a potent toxin. Paige handed Piper the mask, and the eldest remarked slowly on the odd texture.

"It will bring you only anger as our fates are entwined for the time being," Without the mask, his words were clearer, more crisp. The barest shadow of his jaw moved, and he turned his head ever so slightly, revealing a swirling mark that disappeared beneath the white scarf that was tucked into the light armor and down into the sarong and greaves about his hips, marked with much of the same swirls.

"What I have in mind is a whole hell of a lot worse than anger," Phoebe's voice rose, the anger tinting her normally docile tones. She shook a bit, and Paige placed a hand on her shoulder. Thin fingers reached upwards, touching the hand and squeezing.

"You knew," Paige stated after a moment, realizing. "You knew that I was going to take the mask. It's why you turned your face away. You know us. You know enough about our powers; therefore, you have either known us or done some extensive research."

He sighed.

"Yes," Not weary, almost like he was talking to a petulant child. "I knew. And I am giving you a chance. The truth is worse than the lies. You will not like when you dig too deeply, Paige Matthews."

Paige blinked.

"Leo said that you were here because you are guardian of the balance. If you are here as a force of good or evil, it is no matter. We deserve the truth," Piper remarked, voice forged of steel and iron and a woman's fury.

"I am here to protect you, and that is all you need to know," However he turned toward them. His eyes remained cast downwards and there was a sharp intake of breath. His nose, the curly hair, the lips that were full and used to be so expressive, but what was horrible were the eyes. Blue, once such a striking, passionate shade of vivid azure stared forward, glassy and full of nothing when they had been filled with such hate, and if Piper remembered correctly, pain.

It made sense. Why the Alterian knew them. Why the creature had been prepared for the mask to be orbed away. And why he had given them the chance to back out, to not know. Because knowing was so, so much worse than not, Piper agreed.

Phoebe made a distressed, angered noise in the back of her throat.

"Cole," She growled. The Alterian inclined his head, looking up at her with dispassionate slate eyes.

"I was called that once," He whispered, the wings about his head lightly flipping outwards absently.

"You son of a bitch," Phoebe shook. "You stupid son of a bitch."

He didn't even flinch, and it angered her even more. She wanted a reaction, she wanted to lash out and have him lash back. Because then things would be okay. Then he would be Cole and not this... this... This nothingness. It made it so hard to hate him. So hard to hate this shell that wasn't the man who she had loved and hated at separate times with everything she had.

His hands lightly reached outwards, and the spirit curled about his neck. The Alterian took a few steps toward her, and for a moment she thought that she could barely see a flash of emotion behind blue eyes before it was gone.

"I was called that once, too," he commented, almost thoughtful. His gaze shifted toward the house then to Piper that was staring at him.

"What are you doing here, Cole?" She hissed. He may have helped her once, but she wasn't going to trust him. His head inclined, and Piper was hit by the change in him. the feathers rustled again, and the oddness of seeing him with such an... angelic feature made her stomach roll.

"I'm here," he stated, slowly again. "To protect you. The Cole you knew?" He shook his head. "Inconsequential."

* * *

**Okay... there we go... XD**

**Now, I ask that you review if you liked it. It helps me come back to the story, even after two years. The nice thing is... I'm not expecting any deaths. And again, I apologize for disappearing without any sort of warning... I wouldn't have done it given the choice, but I am back now.**

**Anyways... review. No flames, please.**

**Oh, and ask questions. I'm going to be setting up an "Answer section" at the beginning of each chapter for those of you who need them. And don't worry, Cole isn't going to be totally emotionless. :) You'll just have to wait and see. **


End file.
